


The Author Writes a Cliche Story

by terasite



Category: It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia
Genre: Constructive Criticism Welcome, Maybe - Freeform, Other, Rating May Change, Reader-Insert, Slow Burn, Slow Updates, i must be really desperate if im writing my own charlie/reader content, idk who knows, im really winging this tbh, keeping the reader as gender neutral as possible, maybe theyre even a little bit trans it is a mystery., possible ooc i mean ive been watching this show for like 4 days now
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-09
Updated: 2018-12-09
Packaged: 2019-09-15 07:21:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16928949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/terasite/pseuds/terasite
Summary: *Title may change in the future*You move into a seedy apartment in southern Philly to pursue the starving artist aesthetic. Maybe you become the object of obsession or something.





	The Author Writes a Cliche Story

**Author's Note:**

> heres my attempt at writing. i rarely ever do this im usually a reader of these types of things but. sometimes it be like that bro. anyway the gang aint in the prologue (im probably using that word wrong) but will appear in probably the second chapter. please give me tips on how to write the gang esp. charlie that would be uber appreciated and helpful my friends. anyway enjoy this boring ass chapter.

You pull up to the broken, and decrepit looking apartment complex in the outskirts of south Philly, U-haul container in tow. ‘There was no way this is it’ you think to yourself. Double checking the address on the craigslist listing confirms that this is, in fact it. Great, you just got here and already things weren't working out for you. Now knowing that you probably got scammed (of course you did, who offers a nice, clean, minimalist loft for 400$ monthly), you approach the front desk and are notice the bored looking receptionist. 

“Hi, Im new here, My apartment should be number 437?” You struggle to act like you weren't just bamboozled. The receptionist gives you a key with a vintage looking key chain dangling from it with the numbers proudly reading “437.” However, this was not one of your proudest moments. “Uh, I was also wondering about the available lofts? You see, I was promised a nice shiny white loft, and so far it doesn't seem like that could could be in this building.” They give you an amused chuckle and walk off into a back room, never to emerge again. “Alrighty, uh, thank you!” you call out nervously and make your way back to your U-haul, and begin to unload your belongings.

- 

A anxious chuckle escapes you as you look over the numerous cracks scattered about the corners and the various unidentifiable stains clinging to the faded carpet. You decide to begin to unpack, slowly and carefully do you pull out a canvas and set it on its stand. On it shows an unfinished painting, contrasting colors mingling and tangling, invading the head of the subject as it clutches itself. You tear your eyes away from the personal piece and bring your attention to the other boxes scattered and stacked around the room. You decide to unpack your kitchen and bedroom. 

 

Crushing the final box, you let out a exhausted sigh. Finally, it was over; you mentally pat yourself on the back and grab your bag and keys. With the destination set to a local supermarket, you begin to explore the local shops along the way. You see many coffee shops, bars, and other quirky stores and you remind yourself to check them out in the future. You park your car, grab a cart and begin to pack in a small haul of basic groceries and make your way to the self-checkout. The place was barren, ‘Thank god for moving in on a Tuesday’ you muse as you scan your final item, a little reward for yourself; a tub of ice cream to celebrate your ability to finally break free from your family, and pursue your dream being a very real and serious artist. You never thought you’d make it this far but you did and you were pretty damn proud of yourself. 

 

Okay, yes, you have the ice cream, but you deserve an immediate reward (moving out is really hard, man!) and that reward will be a nice and warm cup of coffee. You pull up in front of the coffee shop nearest to the supermarket and enter. Immediately you notice the tacky decor, but you don't let that phase you as you step up to the counter. With a smile on your face you walk up to the counter and notice the blond waitress looking displeased. “Hi! I’d like a (drink name) and a donut to go.” you say cheerfully. No response. People must not be big on conversation in this city, you assume.  


As you wait for your drink you look around the shop, even if it was an ugly shop, it still held a mildly cozy vibe, which is exactly what you look for in a coffee shop. Looking around a little bit more you notice a group of three, two of which are arguing over something you can't quite make out(clearly you need to work on your eavesdropping skills; looked like an intense argument.) and a scraggly looking man in the center. He seemed to be intently focused on something, you follow his line of site and find that it’s the rude barista in the middle of making your order. You look back to him and nearly jump out of your skin when you notice he’s looking at you now and you quickly look away. The other two seemed to have agreed to disagree for the moment and are angrily sipping their drinks. The woman calls out your name and you hurriedly pay and make your way out of the shop and back home as the feeling of being watched crept up on you.

Back at your apartment you sip your coffee and watch the local news over a microwave dinner. You try your hardest to focus on the state of the world and how its destroying itself, but you just can’t seem to take your mind off the small encounter at the coffee shop. You considered yourself invisible and having that be breached or challenged made you feel odd. Despite it all you settle on just chalking it up to another weirdo encounter and move on with nightly routine. 

You climb into bed and try to kill time as much as possible as you wait for sleep to take you. Midway into your activities you hear a noise - well multiple noises actually. The noise turns out to be the faint cries of alley cats hungry meows. ‘Great. How could anyone get sleep with this’ is your finally though as you plug in your headphones and try your best to tune it out until exhaustion finally overcomes you.

**Author's Note:**

> second chapter preview: him  
> thats all you get


End file.
